Photo/Illutration As a superstar for the Yomiuri Giants, Shigeo Nagashima captivated fans with his dynamic swing. (Asahi Shimbun file photo)

You sometimes hear people say they “dislike the Giants,” but I’ve never met anyone who said they “dislike Nagashima.” A man universally loved—a truly fortunate figure.

On the morning of Oct. 14, 1974, when Shigeo Nagashima, the iconic Japanese baseball legend and star of the Yomiuri Giants, was set to announce his retirement, The Asahi Shimbun's signature daily column Vox Populi, Vox Dei began with those words, penned with deep respect.

Half a century later, that impression remains unchanged. Upon hearing the news of his passing on June 3, I once again feel compelled to echo those words with heartfelt reverence.

More than anything, it was his radiance, his irrepressible cheer, which captivated the nation. Surely, this is what we mean when we speak of a true star.

The news of Nagashima’s passing brings to mind a childhood scene once shared across the nation: a summer evening, watching a baseball broadcast unfold like a ritual.

Sitting on the “engawa” traditional wooden veranda with family and neighbors gathered close, we stared intently at the tiny black-and-white TV screen.

“Batting fourth, third baseman, Nagashima.”

The uniquely composed, measured voice of a devoted female announcer for the Giants’ home stadium made this call unmistakable.

When she intoned Nagashima’s name, the air crackled with energy. A ripple of excitement would surge through the room and a collective cry would rise, as if shaken loose by memory or myth. In that moment, we knew: the drama was about to begin.

From striking out in all four at-bats in his debut game to a lifetime of larger-than-life episodes, his career was never short on drama. Undaunted by setbacks, he faced every challenge with fearless determination. His final years, marked by illness, were no exception.

How many found strength in the sight of “Mister”—a nickname born from “Mr. Giants” and “Mr. Pro Baseball” in testament to his standing as the face of both the team and the sport—pressing on with unwavering spirit?

During Japan’s period of rapid economic growth in the Showa Era (1926–1989), daily life was far from uniformly bright or joyful. In fact, it may have been precisely the depth of those societal shadows that made Nagashima’s light shine all the more brilliantly.

He once famously quipped, “Shippai wa seiko no maza” (failure is the mother of success), humorously substituting the English word “mother” for the Japanese “haha.”

Another memorable line came on his 60th birthday, a traditional milestone in Japan known as “kanreki”: “I’ve reached my first kanreki,” he said with a grin.

With these delightfully whimsical turns of a phrase, he had a rare gift for bringing smiles to all who listened.

Now, a symbolic figure of an era when many gritted their teeth and clung to hope for tomorrow has set off on a distant journey.

—The Asahi Shimbun, June 4

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Vox Populi, Vox Dei is a popular daily column that takes up a wide range of topics, including culture, arts and social trends and developments. Written by veteran Asahi Shimbun writers, the column provides useful perspectives on and insights into contemporary Japan and its culture.

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